A Little Bird In Tongues Of Fire
by Secretly.Dreams.Of.Beauty
Summary: Sandor doesn't leave after the Battle of Blackwater, and instead stays to protect Sansa. More summary stuff inside!
1. Chapter 1

**All characters belong to George R.R. Martin and the creators of the HBO adaption. I admit I have not read all the books, so I can't exactly say these characters will act the way they were portrayed in the book. **

**I think I'm going to be adding new chapters every week, so if you like this part, please please please keep reading as I update (: **

**Just as a bit of a note: This takes place right after the battle of Blackwater, but The Hound (Sandor Clegane) has decided to stay in King's Landing. However, all the events that occurred in 2x09 did happen, including his breakdown with the fire and him asking Sansa to leave with him. The only thing that I'm going to change is that when Sandor said, "fuck the kings guard, fuck the city, fuck the king," he only said it to Tyrion, not Joffrey, so Joffrey doesn't actually know about him saying that. **

**[I don't know how romantic this will actually be, I usually prefer angst, but I'm just going to say this is a SanSan fic anyway] **

**PLEASE REVIEW (I want to take any and all constructive criticism into account) **

Sansa

My heart was still thumping wildly long after The Hound had shut my door, and I struggled to get my ragged breathing under control. To be completely honest, I didn't know what to make of the whole encounter. All I knew was that he had left the battle and come to my chambers. Him, the mighty Hound, with such a reputation for killing, had left the battle in an act of desertion. The only explanation I could make of it was the fire. His rasping voice telling me how he wanted to go somewhere that wasn't burning basically spoke for itself.

I couldn't help feeling sympathy for him. Afterall, when fire gave him the face that it did, it was no surprise that he feared it, and I couldn't even imagine how difficult it had been for him to fight amongst the flames.

However, I was in far too much danger myself to worry too much about his motives for leaving. I was safe right now, but any minute someone could barge in and murder me...or worse. My heart raced at the thought, and I tried in vain to quiet it. The sounds of battle outside my window was a constant reminder of just how close I was to death...and freedom.

I imagined what would happen if Stannis won. He would have to save me. Afterall, my father had been executed fighting for Stannis' rightful place on the throne, there was no way he would kill a martyr's daughter. Would he send me back to Winterfell? I hoped he would, but at the same time I imagined a large wedding here in King's Landing to some fair prince, perhaps a reward for my persistence and survival among the treacherous Lannisters.

I was suddenly overcome by a wave of exhaustion, and I quietly climbed into my bed, nestling under the thick blankets, drawing them over my head to block out what little of the battle I could hear. It seemed ridiculous to even think about sleeping when there were men being slaughtered right outside my window, but I needed to. I needed to escape from this horrid nightmare. After what seemed like hours of tossing and turning, I finally fell asleep, dreaming of little birds flying through tongues of fire.

I awoke to furious banging on my door. There was light shining through my window, and I realized that it must be morning. I listened carefully, trying to hear the sounds of battle, but there were none. It was over.

Excited, I jumped out of bed, still dressed in my gown from the previous day, and ran to unbolt the door. Shae stood in the doorway, her hair messy and unbrushed, her eyes tired, as though she had not slept in far too long.

"Shae! Who-"

"We did. Tywin Lannister came to our aid." Shae's voice sounded expressionless as she answered my unasked question, and I wondered if that was actually what she hoped the outcome of the battle to be.

I plastered a fake smile on my face and feigned relief. "I'm glad. I was so worried last night that we wouldn't."

Shae's eyes narrowed slightly, but if she did see through my facade she didn't say anything. "King Joffrey has summoned you. You'd best go, he seemed impatient."

He's always impatient, I thought in my head, but nonetheless smoothed down my hair and skirts and made my way toward the Great Hall, dreading what new torments Joffrey would jibe at me.

The first thing I noticed when I entered the cavernous hall was the appearance of a new man beside the Iron Throne. Dressed in fine red velvet, with an old, stern face, I realized this must be Tywin Lannister.

However, before I could observe him more thoroughly, I caught sight of the man standing on the other side of Joffery. He was tall, with broad shoulders clad in dark, well-used armor, and had scraggly black hair hanging partially over the right side of his face, hiding a horrible twist of flesh and scars. The Hound.

Sandor

The surprise on Sansa's face was obvious as soon as she caught sight of me, but I remained indifferent, keeping my eyes straight forward as I tried to ignore the Little Bird's blue eyes tearing into me.

"Ah! Sansa. Took you long enough." Joffrey's whiny drawl echoed through the hall.

Sansa turned towards the throne, though still throwing me confused looks."I'm sorry, your Grace, I'm afraid I overslept this morning."

Joffrey just looked bored, and waved his hand with an air of dismissal of Sansa's excuse. "I don't care. You learned of my victory, right?"

Sansa gave a smile smile, though I knew it was forced. "Yes, your Grace, I'm sure you were a brave fighter last night. The whole city owes their gratitude to you."

I suppressed a snort. _A pretty bird spouting pretty lies. She may be stupid, but not stupid enough to think Joffrey would risk his life by actually fighting, he just stood back and watched his men die._

"I promised you I'd have you lick my sword when I returned from battle victorious. Joffrey rose from the throne and swaggered down to where Sansa stood, withdrawing Hearteater as he went.

The blade glimmered slightly. There was blood on it. _How the fuck was there blood? He didn't even get near enough to Stannis' men to draw their blood. _

Sansa recoiled, and her mouth twisted in disgust. Nonetheless, being the stupid, obedient girl she was, she leaned down and pecked the blade slightly with her lips, withdrawing as quickly as she could, wiping her mouth.

Joffrey smirked. "I have no further use for you." He turned back and nimbly climbed back up the steps before ungracefully slouching into the iron throne. "Dog, escort her back to her chambers."

I lurched forward quickly, inwardly cursing myself for the obvious eagerness, trying to make up for it by wearing an expression of boredom as I clumped down the stairs and followed Sansa out of the hall.

We were walking in silence, and I wondered idly if she would bring up last night. I knew she wanted to. After all, I told her I was leaving, yet here I was, obedient dog to that whining king once again.

We reached her chambers, and I was turning around to leave when I felt a small hand on my arm. I was wearing my usual layers upon layers of chainmail and armor, but the touch sent an electric shock through my body. _Bloody hells, get ahold of yourself, dog._

"Please, come in." Sansa said softly, as if fearing someone would hear her. However, when it looked at her, her eyes were wide with fright. Of course she's afraid, you know who you are and what your face looks like.

"Whatever you have to say, say it right here." I said, yanking my arm out from under her touch, despite not wanting to, and trying to make my words as vicious as possible.

"Oh, you'd like the whole castle to know of your planned desertion? I had no idea." Sansa's sarcastic reply shocked me. _I guess there is a bit of wolf in her._

Giving her what I hoped was a terrifying glare, I pushed through the door and stepped into the room. It looked so much different than it had last night, with light streaming through the window and Sansa looking clean and poised instead of petrified.

Sansa shut the door and turned towards me, wary. "I want to know why you're still here."

Her voice shook slightly, not strong enough to hide her fear of me.

"I changed my mind. I don't know where I would go, and if I left, the fucking king would've sent out knights after me. I care more about my head than you think, girl." I said roughly, pulling myself up to my full height, knowing it made her uncomfortable to have to strain her neck up to look up at me.

"You didn't seem to care about that last night. You said you would go north. Why didn't you?" Sansa said, staring at me defiantly, her blue eyes boring into me, making me want to look away.

I held her gaze best I could. "I was only going to leave if I was taking you."

Her eyes narrowed. "Why does that make a difference? If the Joffrey knew I was with you he'd send out even more knights, and you'd be punished even worse when you returned."

I rolled my eyes. "I was going to take you to Winterfell. They wouldn't let me in unless I was escorting you. Everyone knows I work for the king, and everyone wants to kill the king, I'd have been killed before I even reached the fucking gate unless I had something of value."

Sansa looked down, knowing what I said made sense. "I'm sorry you had to stay here." I couldn't stop myself from rolling my eyes at that too.

"Save it, girl. You're glad to have me here." I sneered down at her. "Without me you'd have been fucked by three men and had your throat cut open, you should be grateful I'm here protecting you."

She looked up at me again, her blue eyes flashing. "Protecting me? You call standing back while Joffrey has me beaten, telling the queen that I've had my blood, and trying to frighten me every chance you get protecting me?"

I couldn't help my eyes widening in shock at her words. But her little mouth popped open in shock as well as she stuttered out an apology.

"I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean to sound ungrateful. I'm in debt to you for saving me from the mob, forgive me."

I snorted. "You don't owe me anything, little bird. And you're right, I'm not going to be able to save your ass every fucking second of the day. Especially not from the king."

I turned back towards the door, wrenching it open before turning back. "Like I said, I care more for my own head than you think. I care about it more than I do yours." I slammed the door behind me, my throat burning with the lie.

Please tell me what you think! (:


	2. Chapter 2

**Ok I know I said I'd update once a week, but I found some free time and I kind of wanted to just get this story moving along, so I'm updating after only a few days. **

**Thank you to the two people who have reviewed already, I appreciate your support and suggestions! To those of you who are reading this and HAVEN'T reviewed, please do :3 **

**This chapter is (as is this whole fic) based loosely on what happened in the TV series and book series, but not exactly, so please do not be offended if the timeline is out of order or I leave out/add in things that weren't in the show or book, that's why this is called a FANFICTION ;) **

**Sorry this is so short, I meant to make it longer, but my power is at 6% and with exams coming up it don't think there's any other time I can write it, so best with me please!**

Sansa

It was terribly dull to sit through knighting after knighting, reward after reward. I had no idea how Joffrey managed to do it either, he had even less patience than I did. However, he continued on, smiling that smug smile of his as he bestowed honors on countless men for their actions in the battle of Blackwater.

I couldn't help myself, however, from sitting a little straighter and lifting my chin a bit higher when Loras Tyrell was called forward, not wanting to miss a word that came out of his mouth. _He is so_ _unbelievably handsome_.

After thanking him for his nobility, Joffrey granted Loras the ability to ask a favor from the King.

Loras smiled quickly at his sister, Margaery, his golden hair glittering slightly in the light as his head turned. Turning back to Joffrey, he placed his hands behind his back respectfully. "Your grace, I ask the favor of granting the house of Tyrell the greatest honor by wedding my lovely sister, Margaery."

My jaw dropped. Marry Margaery Tyrell instead of me? I held my breath, not daring to breathe as I heard Margery spout pretty words of love and admiration to Joffrey, so good they had to have been rehearsed. They were just the type of words Sandor scoffs at me for saying, full of lies and false courtesies.

Joffrey looked pleased at the compliments bestowed on him, but humbly declined, stating that he was to marry me. I was expecting it, I knew the laws of betrothal, but I couldn't help a stab of disappointment from going through me. I could've been free of him.

Suddenly, Cersei stepped forward, saying some nonsense about being able to set me aside due to my father's betrayal. Once again, I knew I should be upset by these blatant denials of my worthiness to marry Joffrey, but all I felt was hope. Hope that perhaps I would somehow be able to escape from this engagement and never have to worry about marrying and bedding Joffrey ever again.

After much deliberation, with constant encouragements from several influential members of the court, Joffrey reached his decision.

"I shall be honored to take Lady Margaery as my bride, and we shall be wedded as soon as preparations are made."

Cheering filled the hall and I desperately wanted to join in. However, I kept up the charade fixing on my face an expression of hurt and sadness before heading back to my chambers.

"Sansa!" I turned around, knowing that commanding calm anywhere. Joffrey strode up to me, a triumphant grin spread across his pale face. _I can't believe I used to love that._

"Yes, your grace?" I asked politely, maintaining a calm voice despite my urge to shout with joy at my new freedom.

"I know you must be disappointed about this engagement, but don't worry, you'll always belong to me." His hand shot out and gripped my forearm tightly. "Always. Understand? I may not be marrying you but I still own you."

My heart filled with dread. How could I have been so stupid not to realize what this meant. Yes, I was saved from Joffrey's marriage bed, but my engagement to him was my only protection in this place. Now there was no reason for anyone, including Joffrey himself, to spare me, not now that the he himself had deemed me unworthy.

"Girl." A rough voice sounded from behind me, and I looked up to see the Hound replacing Joffrey, his stance much larger than the young King's, towering over me like a chain mail-covered giant.

"The Queen wants you back in your chambers, let's go little bird." His hand, although big enough to wrap around my upper arm with overlapping fingers, was gentle as it turned me around and gave a slight push towards the corridor which led to my room.

I went without saying a word, my mind still racing from the events of this afternoon. Sandor followed closely behind, his armor clanking loudly with each step.

At long last, we reached the stone doorway, and I pushed open the wooden door, stopping in the doorway. I didn't turn to look at him. "What am I supposed to do."

It wasn't even a question, because there was no answer. It was a statement, because as bad as my life in this castle had been, I knew it was only going to get worse, and no one could help that. "I should've left with you when I had the chance," I said, my throat tight, withholding tears, before closing the door, not waiting for the Hound's reply.

Sandor

In any normal circumstance, I would've been happy to hear her say those words. After all, I enjoy being right as much as any other man. But I didn't enjoy it, because it was too late. Sansa knew as well as I did that her time here was about to get worse, which I had not thought possible what with the daily beatings and humiliations at the hands of the King.

I took my place outside her door to stand guard for the night. It was technically Meryn's turn, but I didn't trust anyone with her safety, especially not after Joffrey had all but given free reign to treat Sansa however you pleased.

It was easy to stay awake at first, but after awhile my eyelids began to droop, and I only became fully awake when I heard the sound of footsteps in the stone hallway. I quickly situated myself in such a way that there was no evidence if my dozing, and tucked my empty wineskin into my armor before someone discovered my alcoholic tendencies on duty.

To my astonishment, it was only the Imp who came waddling around the corner, stopping at Sansa's door. The battle had left him in bad condition, with a jagged scar crossing his face in a thick, red line. _Nothing compared to mine_, I thought bitterly, turning my head to throw my twisted mess of a face into the light, just so the tiny lord could see how lucky he actually was.

"Clegane. I was surprised to see you in court today." The imp's voice was mocking, as it usually was, but there was some undercurrent to it that I had never heard before."Be glad I didn't tell the king of your words last night, I have a feeling he wouldn't be pleased."

I just glared at him, not saying a word. His threat was empty. If he was going to tell the King he would've. Though I did regret ever saying those things. The effects of wine and utter terror are not kind to me. "The fuck do you want, Imp."

He gave a sad smile. "Why, to introduce Sansa to her new betrothed, of course!"

My heart flipped. I had thought she was free of weddings and engagements. "To who?" I demanded roughly, inwardly convulsing in jealousy.

Tyrion Lannister held his arms out. "Me."


End file.
